Sympathy
by N Harmonic
Summary: oneshot. Greg is an angel in diguise and doesn't know it until his day to return to heaven comes. read and find out what happened.


**Sympathy**

Greg was nervous as he moved through the funeral home to try and find his two targets. An old man and woman; both morning for their loss and hoping for God to spare them and help them along this new road. They knew that someone would help them in God's word.

He stopped in relief when he saw the old man sitting in a white isle; alone, not even being glanced at. The old man was confident and happy when Greg walked up to him and bent over so his ear was next to the old man's mouth so he could hear. The old man whispered a message into Greg's ear before Greg stood up and search again for the wife.

He sighed at the sad site of the wife crying next to her daughter who was doing horribly at trying to comfort her. Greg looked at the old man again only to see that he wasn't there. He took a deep breath and walked up to the wife.

"Mrs. Jane Jenkins?" he asked and the old woman and daughter looked at him; the wife sad and confused while the daughter was slightly mad.

"Yes?" she asked confused; she didn't know this man.

Greg took a silent deep breath and relaxed before speaking. "Mr. Arthur Jenkins wants you to continue having Bloody Lily wine every Saturday under that stars," said Greg and the old woman was horribly confused as to how he knew that. "He wants you to dance 'The Cramp' when you need some fun in your life and most of all, he needs you to take care of yourself," relayed Greg.

Greg smiled at the woman who seemed to realize what he was saying. Greg looked over his shoulder and smile when he noticed the old man, the husband, leaving into the light with a nod. Greg turned about to leave when the old woman grabbed his wrist.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Greg didn't even look at her. "A messenger of God," he whispered and started to walk away.

He was satisfied when he heard a gasp as he release his wings; only those who experienced death or have met an angel can see them. He knew this woman could live happy knowing her husband was in the right place and by God.

111-CSI Headquaters-111

Nick had just finished case with Greg and he would have been celebrating on the hard find with the new field worker; it he could find him. He searched everywhere before coming to the lounge; shocked to find Greg praying. He never took the man to be a believer. He listened to the silent prayers.

"I am ever grateful for the gift of more time.  
>I thought my time was over, my days complete,<br>then a miracle came and my time was extended.  
>Choices await my wise use of this precious time,<br>may I ever be grateful for the time and use it well,  
>aware that each new day is a gift to be treasured,<br>each new experience is an unexpected blessing,  
>may I use them carefully, wisely and well,<br>using part of my time to love, laugh & feel joy.  
>I have new chances to expand my awareness,<br>to grow my spirit in compassion and understanding.  
>Bless this day, this hour, this minute, this moment.<br>I am ever grateful for the gift of more time."

Greg took a deep breath once he finished the thanks to his Lord and replaced his rosary. It was a gold cross on a silver chain; given to him by his grandmother on her death bed where he learned his heritage. He didn't believe her until he met her ghost three days later and had to learn the ropes.

Greg gasped when he heard silent clapping; he turned to see a smiling Nick. "Didn't know you were a believer," he said and walked over.

Greg shook his head and looked away from Nick; he hadn't wanted anyone but his patients to know. "I only bless those who are going to die or where the spirits reside."

"Where the spirits reside?" asked Nick; amused and intrigued.

Greg shrugs. "Some people believe that the spirits of their friends or family or random people don't go to heaven or hell and get stick here. They feel at peace when they call someone like me to send them to the other side," he explained.

"Interesting," muttered Nick in thought. "How'd you get into this?" he asked.

"My grandmother told me of my legacy while on her death bed," he answered and stood. "I have to return my report to Grissom."

Greg was silent as he walked with his report on the case Nick and himself had just finished. Greg and Nick had played rock, paper, scissors to see who wrote the report and Greg unfortunately lost. Luckily, the report was easier with the ghost helping him write it.

When Greg walked into Grissom's office he was unpleasantly surprised to see a woman, maybe ten years older than Grissom, standing behind Grissom. Greg didn't make a sound as he mouthed 'Who are you?'

"I'm his Auntie Mocha," she replied. "Can you do me a favor and tell him to take better care of himself and to take his insomnia pills?"

Greg was shocked by the requested and mouthed 'Now?' which caused the ghost to nod. Greg sighed which gave Grissom a fright. He looked up from his work and looked at Greg expectantly.

"Yes?" asked Grissom.

"Turning my report in," said Greg and placed it on the desk; whiling looking at Mocha. Grissom noticed that Greg was staring over his shoulder so he checked himself; there was no one behind him.

"Anything else?" asked Grissom.

"No," said Greg and turned to leave; he took a step before hearing Mocha's begging to relay her message. "Actually… I have a message to relay for you."

Grissom stopped his work and looked at Greg to continue. "Your Auntie Mocha… wants you to take better care of yourself and says the starts with you taking you insomnia pills," said Greg quickly.

Grissom was shocked. "How did you know I have insomnia? Or who my auntie Mocha was?" he asked confused and shocked.

"Messenger of God," said Greg with a smile; just as he said that there was a flash of light and thank you. Greg turns and walked out Grissom's office; he knew this wasn't over.

Greg walked to the lounge and took a seat on the couch. He would have to think things over for his and the other's futures. Anyone who knew Grissom well knew that he wouldn't stop trying to learn new things; especially something unheard.

Greg sighed before standing up and walking out of the lunge; now that he thought of it, he couldn't remember why he had gone in there in the first place. He maneuvered around Grissom's office; it wasn't till he was outside that he was seen.

"Greg, I need to talk to you," called Grissom but Greg ignored him like he could hear it; he sure as hell heard the next thing.

**Boom!**

"Ahhhh!"

Greg and Grissom were quick to react; Greg ran to the man while Grissom called an ambulance. When Greg got to the man he was shocked by how much blood there was; though normal for being shot in the chest. He put pressure on it and held it as Grissom called; he was sounding frantic, like he knew the man wouldn't live.

The man, O'Bryan, noticed the rosary around Greg's neck in his writhes of pain. "Greg, do you have the power to bless me?" he asked in a pained voice. Grissom was off the phone and listened silently.

Greg was shocked by the question. "Yes," he said and removed his rosary' placing it on O'Bryan's chest over his heart. He began to mutter his own prayer that he had said to his grandmother.

"A life has ended, with the passing of a friend,  
>the memories of times, have come to an end,<br>their threads wove the fabric of an earlier day.

A life has ended, with the passing of a friend,  
>sunrises and sunsets, bright days and dark nights<br>circled again and again, and gave context to this life,  
>moment after moment, their life was lived each day.<p>

A life has ended, with the passing of a friend,  
>lives have been touched by the dear one's journey,<br>laughter, tears, hopes, fears, a life has come to an end  
>memories hold their spirit alive, in my own life.<p>

A life has ended, with the passing of a friend,  
>the loss of future moments, that will not be,<br>grateful for moments shared, that nourished me,  
>moments lived, in csual belief, they would never end.<p>

A part of me has ended, with the passing of a friend,  
>be they gone from the earthy plain, their spirit soars,<br>to renew again, in summerland, heaven or another life,  
>I know not where, but their love remains with me,<br>for in this life, we friends, did share.

I miss my friend, but they will always be near, inside  
>of me, inside you, and all who took time to hear,<br>the music of this life so dear, a life now silent,  
>living only in the memory, of those who survive," just as he finished, O'Bryan died; just as the ambulance drove in.<p>

Greg replaces his rosary and stood carefully. He looked to the left of O'Bryan's body and smiled at his ghost. The ghost nodded his thanks and crossed over. When the ambulance began to try and chock him awake, he knew it wasn't going to happen.

"That was amazing Greg," said Grissom silently. "Such a cool head and you were able to fulfill his last wish."

Greg nodded. "It's my job," he said and walked to his car. "I might tell you about it tomorrow!" called Greg; he waved before getting in his car for home.

111-Next Day-With Grissom-111

Every CSI that Greg usually worked with was in the conference room. Grissom said Greg had something to say and they each got a call from Greg saying the same thing that it was going to be hard to believe that they would need an open mind.

Grissom didn't know what to think; he couldn't believe it when Greg suddenly started to talk to him yesterday about his aunt and insomnia. Only his auntie Mocha knew about that and she died with the secret.

None the less he did as Greg said and took his pills. He was kind of happy because for the first time since his aunt died he got some actual hours of sleep. He felt good for once instead of staying up all night to read case files.

"I see you took your pills," Grissom looked up in surprise to see Greg who was smirking softly.

"Come in Greg," said Grissom and motion for him to sit. "You said you were going to explain yesterday; with my aunt?" the CSI listened silently.

Greg nodded silently. "It made be hard to believe but I was born with the ability to see ghost," Greg said confidently and watched everyone's reaction; one word: shocked... to amused.

"So you see and talk to ghost," stated Grissom.

"Should I get my pink slip now or later?" asked Greg with a sigh and stood.

"Hold on Greg. I believe you," said Grissom and Greg smile and took his seat again. "Tell me more please?"

"There isn't much to tell," said Greg as he searched his memories. "I was seven at my grandmother's deathbed when she told me about it; I, of course, didn't believe her until I saw it for myself. Three says after she died she found me and trained me to talk to and help ghost," explained Greg.

"Help how?" asked Grissom, he was truly intrigued.

"By sending them to heaven or hell," remembered Nick.

"Just heaven, most hell wanderers are sucked in exactly after death," said Greg.

"You're a good friend Greg," said Warrick. "But I don't know what makes you think that I can believe that."

Greg didn't reply; he was too confident, he thought that they were his friends, that they would believe him. It was too much to ask for.

Greg sighed and stood. "I didn't expect you to believe me," just as he said that an intern walked in.

"You have a case," she said and placed the file on the table.

111-Warehouse-murder sight-111

Nick and Warrick was taking pictures of the scene while Catherine and Sarah were picturing the body. Grissom, though his mind was on Greg, was trying to figure out what happened.

Nick found a strange substance and thought Greg might know it from his years in the lab. "Hey Greg," no answer, "Greg!"

Greg could listen to anyone right now; he was staring at the floor as the victim's ghost spoke to him. "Now killer is still here," he whispered. "He's gonna fire," as that Greg's eyes widen.

"Hit the deck!" he shouted and fell to the ground; copied by everyone but Catherine who was too confused.

"Catherine!" shouted Greg and with inhuman speed made it to the blonde woman as a gun went off at them.

Everything was a blur in the dark warehouse. When the firing finally stopped everyone gasped shocked. There, standing where Catherine and Greg, were a pair of dusty, golden blonde wings. When the wings opened, they revealed Greg standing perfectly fine with an unconscious Catherine.

Greg set Catherine on the floor before standing straight again and staring at the gunman who threw his gun away; out of bullets. "Long time, no screech Lucifer," said Greg.

"Not since that master of yours banished me!" shouted the Archangel.

"He had every right!" retaliated Greg and a bright, white light flashed.

Everyone opened their eyes to see that they were home. When they rushed back to CSI Headquarters and asked about Greg, the woman kept repeating that there was no record of a Greg Sanders in the CSI. No one knew what to say after that; they only stared at the sky in wonder.


End file.
